


Dare.

by AteYellowPaint



Series: Joger Week 2021 [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (kinda), Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rock Montreal, Truth or Dare, cause we need more Rock Montreal in the Dealor tag, just dudes being bros, they're pretty chaotic tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteYellowPaint/pseuds/AteYellowPaint
Summary: Roger sucks on his teeth and looks around the hotel ballroom. “I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in this room.”“Roger,” John says in a clear warning. Roger watches as John’s face grows slightly pink, something he hasn’t seen since the early seventies.“You wanted spontaneous.” Roger shrugs.-or-Roger is the prettiest of them all.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: Joger Week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136810
Comments: 18
Kudos: 34
Collections: Joger Week 2021





	Dare.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all, happy day 2 of Joger Week! Thank you all so so much for your incredible comments on yesterday’s fic! I wrote today’s fic using the prompt “partying.”
> 
> Also, this is an AU where wives and children don’t exist cause I ain’t about cheating lol

He looks good.

He looks way too damn good.

He looked good during the concert, hopping onto the drum risers in that stupid - _tight_ \- blue number. He looked good in the dressing room, sweaty and flushed and joking around with the roadies. And he looks good standing across the hotel ballroom, surrounded by a bunch of EMI executives, carrying himself with the poise of someone who knows he can go toe to toe with any of the stuck up suits around him.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” Roger snaps his head back just in time to catch the tail end of Freddie’s eye roll.

“Roger, my dear,” Freddie says, pushing Roger’s legs off of his lap and onto the floor with a _thunk_. “You have all the subtlety of a pink zebra.”

Roger narrows his eyes as he pushes himself up and leans back against the chaise armrest. “What are you on about?”

“Right,” Freddie says with a sigh.

“What!”

“Nothing, darling,” Freddie says as he gets up.

“Oh, where are you going?” Roger asks indignantly.

“I’m going to find someone who will actually hold a conversation. And besides.” Freddie smirks. “It looks like lover-boy is on his way over.”

“Lover-” Roger cuts himself off when he sees John headed their way and shoots a glare at Freddie.

Freddie pays it no mind and collects his drink from the small table beside them.

“Oh,” John says as he approaches them. “You’re leaving?”

“Unfortunately,” Freddie says - for all his teasing, he does have tact. “If I don’t at least say hello to some of these people, Miami will have my head.”

“Well, at least that’ll keep them away from me for a while,” John grumbles as he sinks down into the spot Freddie abandoned. The (again, tight) white t-shirt he’s wearing rides up a little at his back, exposing a small slip of skin and the black waistband of his pants that peek out from the top of his jeans.

“That bad?” Roger asks, breaking his attention away from John’s backside to the group he just abandoned.

“You know you could at least try and talk to some of them,” John says.

“Nah thanks, mate.”

John rolls his eyes. “I don’t understand why I’m always the one roped into bullshitting the bosses.”

Roger doesn’t have time to respond to the hypothetical before John pinches the bridge of his nose and says with a defeated groan, “Fuck, am I the boring one?”

Roger pauses and furrows his brow. “You’re not boring.”

John huffs a laugh and takes a sip from his martini, which looks very out of place in his large hands.

“You just know how to talk business is all,” Roger adds.

John side-eyes him. “That’s basically code for ‘boring’.”

“Fine, then,” Roger huffs, absolutely not in the mood to entertain a pity-party. “If you’re so hung up about it, go do something spontaneous. Make yourself not boring.”

“Spontaneous?”

“Yes, John. Spontaneous,” Roger says. “It’s something not-boring people do.”

John looks at him for a moment before he looks down into his drink and quietly says, “I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

“That’s the point of it,” Roger says, maybe a little too harshly.

John scowls and mutters something under his breath as he makes a move to get up. Roger has a fleeting moment of panic and shoots his leg out to stop him, hitting his foot against John’s knees as if that’ll somehow trap him in the chair. If anyone asks, he’ll blame his childishness on the alcohol, though he’s much more clear-headed than he’d like to be at the moment.

John gives him a strange look, so Roger says the first thing that pops in his mind. “Truth or dare.”

John scoffs. “Rog, that’s not-”

“Truth or dare, Deaky.”

For as “boring” as John claims to be, Roger knows that he’s the most mischievous out of all of them. And that point is only proven when John says,

“Dare.”

Roger grins. He sucks on his teeth and looks around the hotel ballroom. And honestly, he must be the stupidest person on earth, because the only thing he comes up with is, “I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in this room.”

“Roger,” John says in a clear warning. Roger watches as John’s face grows slightly pink, something he hasn’t seen since the early seventies.

“You wanted spontaneous.” Roger shrugs.

The way John looks at him pins him to the seat: the slight furrow in his brow, the squint of his eyes, the firm set of his mouth that he only gets when he’s made up his mind about something--

John turns away for a moment and puts his glass on the table behind him. Then, all at once, John turns back around and his hands are on either side of the arm rest behind Roger. He hovers for just long enough that Roger has time to take in the slightest flash of doubt across his face before he leans down and captures Roger’s lips with his own.

Roger takes in a sharp breath through his nose before he manages to close his fucking eyes and _move_ goddamnit. The shock of it doesn’t quite wear off, but Roger has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he brings his hand up to the back of John’s head as John presses him deeper into the arm rest.

He’s still trying to make sense of what the hell is happening by the time John pulls away. Roger blinks his eyes up at John, who looks equally satisfied and horrified at what he just did. 

Neither of them move for a long moment until Roger finally blurts out, “You think I’m the prettiest?”

Roger can practically see the nerves melt out of John before it’s replaced by the easy confidence that hit him like a truck when 1980 rolled around. John chuckles low in his chest and Roger has to fight to suppress a tremble that rolls over his body.

John has mercy on him and sits back up. He props his arm up on the back of the chaise and rests his head against his fist.

“Truth or dare,” John says, ignoring Roger’s question.

Roger’s eyes light up. “Dare.”

His desire must be written all over his face, because John blows a laugh through his nose before he sweeps his eyes over the room. By the time John finally makes up his mind, a million (brilliant, in his opinion) ideas are running through Roger’s head.

“I dare you to go over there and cockblock Brian,” John says, pointing to the bar where Brian has his hand on the knee of some blonde.

Roger’s mouth drops open and he baulks at John. “Are you serious?”

John shrugs, his cocky smirk never leaving his face. “It’ll be funny.”

Roger stares at John for a long moment, but John doesn’t back down.

“Fine,” Roger grumbles as he dramatically heaves himself off the chaise. “You’re no fucking fun.”

“Good luck!” Roger hears John sing-song after him and Roger just throws the bird behind him in response.

***

Roger may not be a fan of the dare, but dares mean something, and Roger is a man of his word. So unfortunately, he’s stuck at the bar, making a point to ignore every one of Brian’s subtle hints to leave while John - the smug bastard that he is - sits at a table with Crystal and Ratty, all laughing at Roger’s attempts to scare off Brian’s date. 

But right as Roger is starting to make progress with his mission, John breaks out of his conversation with the others and catches Roger’s eye.

And listen, John can be famously difficult to read; so it’s no surprise that Roger is almost blindsided when he sees all of his own need reflected back at him from across the room.

Roger doesn’t take his eyes off of him; he can’t. He watches as John gets up from the chair and slips away from his conversation. He looks back at Roger one more time before he walks to the hallway that leads to the gents.

Roger stares at the hall John disappeared through, his mind a spinning wheel of runaway thoughts. This is a bad idea. This is a very bad idea. Up until twenty minutes ago, he’d never allow himself to believe his attraction was returned. Up until twenty minutes ago, he’d never dare cross over that line. Up until twenty minutes ago--

Roger was the kind to jump in head first and deal with the consequences later.

And he still is.

“I’ll catch you later, Bri,” Roger says distractedly as he leans off the bar and walks across the ballroom.

He pushes down the thought that he might ruin a decade of friendship over basic lust. And then he slams the lid closed on the thought that this is way more than just lust. And then he’s in front of the bathroom door.

Roger throws open the door and sees John at the sink drying his hands. John practically jumps out of his skin and wheels around to face Roger.

“Fuck, Rog, don’t just barge-”

John stops talking when Roger crowds into his space, pushing him back and grabbing the edge of the counter on either side of his hips, pinning him against it.

“Truth or dare,” Roger says, getting as close to John’s face as he can while still being able to look into his eyes. He sees a bit of pink creep into John’s cheekbones for the second time that night, and now it’s his turn to feel smug.

“Dare,” John whispers.

Roger roughly grabs John’s chin and pulls him into a dirty kiss. Hands fly to Roger’s back and clutch at the fabric of his shirt. Roger hooks his fingers inside the waistband of John’s trousers and pulls their hips flush together.

Roger uses his grip on John’s chin to open his mouth and lick inside, groaning at the sloppy feel of John’s tongue against his. He hisses when John bites down on his lip and moves his hand to tug at the short strands at the nape of John’s neck. It’s only when Roger gets a moan out of John that he finally pulls away.

“I dare you to take me up to your room,” Roger says against John’s lips, emphasising his request with another tug on John’s hair, drawing a gasp out of him.

John doesn’t waste time on an answer. He just grabs the hand that is practically inside of his pants and starts tugging Roger out of the bathroom and to the elevators. Roger has to suppress a laugh when John impatiently presses the call button multiple times. But then John looks back at him, clearly trying to hold back his own laughter, and neither of them can hold it in any longer.

They’re still giggling when John drags Roger into the elevators and pins him to the wall. Roger just barely remembers to lean over and press the button to John’s floor before John starts attacking his neck with bites and kisses and his mind goes effectively blank.

**Author's Note:**

> oop cut it off right when it was getting good sry about that lol


End file.
